Diamonds and Dreams (32 page)

Addison sighed. “And if you do meet someone
you know? What then?”

“That won’t happen. Neither of us will be
seen.”

“You will if she insists on spying on dukes.
To do that, she must be near the aristocracy. Someone will
see—”

“I am going to take her to all the places
where
dukish people
may be seen. The theaters. The park. The
opera houses. White’s. We will drive by those places in the
carriage, and she may spy from the window.”

“It won’t work.”

“It will.”

“What are you going to do? Lie down in the
floor of the coach? Someone is going to see—”

“Addison, it’s the only way around this
outrageous plan of hers. I will not go gallivanting around London
with her. Good God! Imagine my spying on my own fellow aristocrats!
Knowing her, she’d have me peeking into their windows at night to
see what sort of nightclothes they wear!”

Addison laughed. “You forget that I know
Goldie too, Saber. I cannot believe she will be content with spying
from a coach window. She’s going to want to get close enough
to—”

“I’m afraid she will not have her way on
that account. Good night.”

Saber left the room so quickly, Addison
didn’t have the chance to return the sentiment. He poured himself
another brandy, absently picking up Saber’s empty snifter. “What
are your
real
reasons for not telling her who you are, old
boy?” he murmured. “Tea parlors. Violets. Hats. Bull-milking.
Dandelions and breezes...”

Addison smiled broadly. “You can’t love her,
eh, Saber?” Completely unable to help himself, he fell back into
his chair, and laughed.

And then he looked up, winked, and thanked
God.

* * *

Seated in a huge leather chair, Saber looked
around in Tyler Escott’s office while the investigator thumbed
through one of the diaries. He’d already told the detective the
entire story from beginning to end, and now waited to hear what the
man thought. “Do you think it’s possible to somehow read the
stained words? I realize many of them are completely obliterated,
but some are merely smeared.”

Tyler leaned over his desk. “I’ll do my
best. Maybe by the time you get Dane Hutchins’ account books and
William Doyle’s records to me, I’ll have deciphered some of these
diary passages. I’ve met William Doyle, by the way. He and I
attended the same dinner party about a year ago. He spoke highly of
you and told me how much he enjoyed working for both you and your
father.”

Saber smirked at that.

“Yes, well, at any rate, Lord Tremayne,
continue with your masquerade, and by all means take up residence
in your friend’s house. I think it’s a superb idea for all of
London to believe you are in Scotland. I’ve no doubt that the fact
Miss Mae is looking for you hasn’t set well with Hutchins. If he
should come to London or contact Doyle, both men will be...uh,
relieved
to know you are not in the city. That, of course,
is a measure of safety for Miss Mae, too.”

“So you believe Hutchins and Doyle have
committed the crimes.”

“Of that there is no doubt in my mind. But I
must find irrefutable evidence. Otherwise you cannot press
charges.”

“Of course.” Saber stared at the detective,
needing to ask a question, but hesitant to hear its answer. “Tyler,
Goldie’s in danger, isn’t she?”

Tyler saw his client’s extreme anxiety and
sought to soothe it as best he could. “I wouldn’t be overly
concerned at this point. There is cause for suspecting many things,
but I don’t like discussing mere conjecture. As I said, continue
with the masquerade, and stay in your friend’s house. After all, if
no one can find
you
, it will be next to impossible to find
Miss Mae either. And let us not forget that Hutchins is obviously
not a stupid man. He’ll think twice before leaving Ravenhurst in
search of Miss Mae. Many people would see him leave the
estate.”

“And he’d be without an alibi,” Saber
speculated.

“Exactly.”

Saber stood and shook Tyler’s hand. He
realized many things had been left unsaid between them, but
understood that that was the way the detective worked. Until the
time came to discuss them, all suspicions would remain unmentioned.
“I’ll be on the corner of Pickering and Landon should you need to
contact me.”

“Fine. But please do not think you can never
leave the house. That wouldn’t be feasible at all, and from what
you’ve told me about Miss Mae, I doubt very seriously that you
could keep her locked up anyway. I only caution you against going
to places where your acquaintances might see you. Places where
members of nobility might be found. Stay away from those locations,
and the fact that you are in London will most likely remain
unknown.”

Saber thought about Goldie’s determination
to seek out dukes, and gave a great sigh. “I’ll try. Good day.”

When his client was gone, Tyler returned to
his desk, thinking about everything they had and hadn’t discussed.
He glanced at the sack of diaries. Somehow, he had to force those
little books to give up their secrets. The case went much deeper
than uncovering Hutchins’ and Doyle’s theft. It was also a matter
of Angelica Sheridan’s accidental fall down the staircase, and
Tyler knew Marion Tremayne understood this too.

That thought in mind, Tyler picked up a
diary.

* * *

“Lucille, my dear,” Clara scolded gently,
“you are twisting your bracelet again. If you do not stop, you are
going to wrench your arm.” Primly, she touched her salt-and-pepper
hair and smoothed her skirts with a wrinkled but very soft hand.
Her twinkling blue eyes never leaving her sister, she patted her
reticule, which was lying beside her.

Lucille gave Clara an impatient look and let
go of her bracelet. “I may twist my bracelet, Clara, but at least I
don’t carry my reticule wherever I go. I only have mine when I’m
leaving the house. You take yours from room to room. Why, it
wouldn’t surprise me to learn that you sleep with it under your
pillow!”

Clara raised a brow and removed her hand
from her bag.

Smiling smugly, Lucille pushed her round,
silver-rimmed spectacles back to the bridge of her nose, never
noticing when they promptly slipped back down to her plump and rosy
cheeks. “Besides,” she began, fingering her bracelet again, “I
cannot help feeling anxious. Our boy is back in London! And with
the girl no less! Oh, why isn’t Marion here yet? It isn’t that far
from Addison’s house.”

“We only just received his message. Do you
think he has wings?” Clara slipped her reticule strings around her
wrist, rose from the padded couch, and set to rights the
arrangement of peacock feathers Margaret had knocked over.
“Margaret, you naughty girl,” she said to the blond spaniel. “A
lady takes care when she walks about a room. Where are your
manners?”

Margaret affected a soft whimper, earning a
loving pat from Clara.

“Do you think he’ll bring the girl with
him?” Lucille asked excitedly, giving her bracelet a firm twist.
“Addison said she’s really quite beautiful. Oh, Clara, do you think
it presumptuous of me to wonder if our boy feels anything similar
to affection for her? And why didn’t he bring her here last night?
This
is
his home, after all. Do you suppose—”

“I think, sister, that as soon as our boy
arrives, he will deliver the answers to all our questions. But have
a care not to overwhelm him the second he steps into the room,
Lucille. He’s likely to be tired from his journey yesterday, and
not inclined to—”

“Good morning, aunties,” Saber greeted them
from the doorway of the drawing room. “I see you received my
message. How beautiful you both look. But you didn’t have to put on
such finery for my sake. I’ve seen you both at your worst, and have
continued loving you in spite of it.”

Clara shook her head disapprovingly.
“Marion, that’s positively an indecent thing to say.”

Lucille patted her bright silver hair, then
rose slowly from her tapestry chair. “And these gowns cannot be
considered finery, Marion. Why, these are morning gowns, and only
of sprigged muslin. But do you remember my blue velvet? That is
finery, my boy. I wonder where that dress is? I haven’t worn it in
so long.”

“Lucille, you gave that gown to charity
eight years ago,” Clara informed her sister. “Now do sit down, stop
playing with your bracelet, and let’s hear what Marion has to say,
shall we? Marion, where is the girl? I must tell you that it is
quite distressing to me that you and Addison slept in the same
house with her without proper chaperone.”

“But Mrs. Stubbs—”

“Is Addison’s housekeeper,” Clara finished
for him.

Saber smiled sheepishly and made himself
comfortable on the padded satin sofa. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling
no remorse whatsoever. “Now, aunties, I need your help.”

“And you shall have it,” Lucille promised.
“Is it help with the girl you need?” She leaned forward, presenting
her good ear to him. “Why didn’t you bring her with you this
morning? Addison informed us she is pleasing to the eye and
kindhearted as well. Because of that I suppose we can forgive her
for being American. The girl can’t very well help being from that
country, now can she? One certainly cannot choose one’s birthplace,
and—”

“Lucille,” Clara admonished. “You are
chattering.”

“You’ll like Goldie, Aunt Lucy,” Saber told
her. “She chatters too.”

“Well, that is all we need.” Clara threw up
her hands, her reticule swinging from her wrist. “Two chatterboxes
in the house. We’ve prepared the pink room for her, Marion. It is
the room furthest away from yours,” she added, her meaning thinly
veiled.

“Does she like pink?” Lucille asked.

He thought of the pink and white curtains.
“Yes, I believe she does, but she won’t be staying in the pink
room. She and I will be residing in Addison’s town house across the
city.”

“His
grandfather’s
?” Clara exclaimed.
“Why, Marion, that will never do. You simply cannot be seen in that
section of—” She broke off, her eyes widening, her hand clutching
the bodice of her gown. “Did you say that you and Goldie would be
residing there? Alone? Marion!”

“Aunt Clara—”

“You may be His Grace, the Duke of
Ravenhurst, but in my eyes you are first and foremost my
boy
. And if you think—”

“He’s
my
boy, too, Clara,” Lucille
interjected.

Clara took a deep breath, gathering
patience. “Marion, you will not live with the girl alone. I forbid
it.”

Frowning, Saber stood and ambled around the
room. “Aunties, I know that Addison has already enlightened you as
to Goldie’s predicament, so I see no need to go into that.
However—”

“Is her uncle here too?” Lucille asked. “We
can allow no drunkards in this house, Marion. It simply isn’t—”

“Asa Mae remains in Hallensham to the best
of my knowledge,” Saber answered.

“And what of the little man who guards her?”
Lucille queried. “That Huge.”

“
Big
, Auntie,” Saber corrected. “Big
Mann. He has returned to Hallensham to see to Asa. Now, what I need
for the two of you to do is... Well, to put it very simply, I need
you to lie.”

“Lie!” Clara exclaimed.

“Lord Tremayne is in Scotland,” Saber
continued. “Addison has already begun spreading the news that His
Grace is out of the country, and I want you to further it. I don’t
want anyone to know I’m back in London.”

Lucille frowned. “My boy, you are not in
Scotland. You are standing right here in this room.”

“I am in Scotland,” Saber insisted. “Goldie
is bound and determined to seek out Lord Tremayne to spy on him. To
prevent her from embarking upon such a vain task, Addison—probably
at this very moment—is telling her that His Grace is in Scotland
with no immediate plans to return. The nobility will be led to
believe the same, and—”

“Marion, are you saying the poor girl still
doesn’t know who you are?” Clara asked.

Saber crossed to the piano and ran his
finger over the violet satin that covered it. “She knows the common
man beneath the nobleman.” At the thought, a tender flame warmed
his soul.

“The common man...” Clara began, baffled.
“Marion, you are making no sense: Perhaps you should leave the
room, come in again, and we can make a fresh start with this
conversation.”

Saber shook his head, clearing it of all
thoughts but the information he had to give his aunts. He’d already
decided to tell them just enough to satisfy them, but would not
reveal anything that might upset their delicate sensibilities.
“Listen carefully, aunties. In the letter I had Addison bring to
you from Leighwood, I told you about Delia’s diaries. You will be
glad to know that in the matter concerning Hutchins’ and Doyle’s
thievery, those books have, indeed, been informative. There is a
problem with them, though. Many of them are badly stained and next
to impossible to read. This upset me, for I’ve found other passages
in them that are a great deal of interest to me. Entries concerning
Angelica. I—I need to know what Delia wrote about Angelica. Surely
you can understand how important it is to me to know what she
thought about the girl I was going to marry.”

“Well, of course we do, my boy,” Clara
murmured. She watched Saber carefully, waiting for his blank
expression to crack with pain. His eyes reflected anxiety, but not
the profound agony she was accustomed to seeing when Angelica’s
name was mentioned. She frowned in total confusion.

Saber left the piano and sat down beside his
Aunt Lucy. “I have just concluded a visit with Tyler Escott. He’s a
well-known detective, and is going to study the diaries carefully.
Not only that, but he is going to build an ironclad case against
Hutchins and Doyle. He agrees that it’s better that no one knows I
am in London. Every precaution must be taken to keep Hutchins and
Doyle from learning Goldie has found me. If they knew, they’d have
time to escape before I can bring them to justice. So you see? The
fewer people who know she and I are together, the better. I can’t
very well live in my own home right now. Addison’s other house will
be my place of residence until Hutchins and Doyle are arrested.”
Looking at Clara, he raised his chin.